Cruel Garden God © Surazeus 2024 07 03 When I see you standing by Pool of Eyes wearing garland of herbs binding your hair, I ask with trembling voice and beating heart if you would like to walk strange road of life together so we can watch the sunrise from the bottom of the sea in our hearts. I want to play pipes carved from river reeds while you dance slowly with elegant grace by the river beneath the apple tree where herd of sheep graze on the lush hillslope, then lie together under twinkling stars to kiss with pleasure in forever now. But that pastoral world of paradise has vanished lost behind the barbed-wire fence, so we but glimpse its glow of timeless peace now unreachable as we work all day since we drive by on asphalt roads in cars driven by piston engines fueled by gas. From broad meadows of pens with cows and sheep, farms of herbs and wheat, orchards of fruit trees, and small towns of workshops on river shores, to empires ruled by men with swords and guns from pyramids, temples, churches, and banks, human systems of control spread and grow. We struggle to build paradise in hell four hundred million years of spinning change since we crawled from oceans up river streams to swim in sparkling lakes of mountain vales, then rise at dawn of time from Lake of Dreams to grasp Fruit of Wisdom from Tree of Life. Yet, when I reach my hand up to the sun to grasp sweet Fruit of Wisdom from the tree, the sleek slithering serpent with golden eyes hisses with voice of the wind in my ear to tempt me with arrogance of mute fear, but I strike its head and claim fruit as mine. While my father hesitates to snatch fruit my mother twirls wand of wisdom with grace to kill the serpent infesting the tree, who tries to keep us subservient as slaves, so we can eat the sacred fruit of truth as we evolve from apes to human beings. Rebelling against the cruel garden god, first mother breaks down gates of paradise and leads us from strict prison of despair, so we spread from Eden to colonize ten thousand river valleys of the Earth with vast cities of bright computer webs.
Surazeus Astarius Συράζευς Αστάριος. Cartographer. Epic Poet. Hermead epic poem about Philosophers 126,680 lines of blank verse. http://tinyurl.com/AstarianScriptures
Orpheus searches vast cities of bright computer webs for paradise lost in paintings, poems, and photographs.
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